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Back to the Beginning
Prologue Crows circled around a large area of the Rukongai, where only just four months prior, the war with Akujin had raged. Soul Society had still not recovered. Bodies of Shinigami, Quincy, and Arrancar alike littered the field — the crows casually picking at their rotting flesh. In the midst of this carnage, a young boy, a mess of brown hair sitting awkwardly upon his head, shuffled his way through the bodies, sword casually swung over his shoulder; dried tears staining his face. Finding a small rock, jutting out from the field of death, the young boy takes a seat, hastily tearing at a pocket in the bloodied shihakushō he wore and retrieving a half-eaten piece of bread and viciously shoving it into his mouth. As he did, however, something caught his eye. Movement. He was not alone in this field of littered corpses. A man with short, raven-black hair, dressed in the standard attire of a Shinigami, was approaching. The boy watched the man sharply as he approached, and was mildly surprised when he reached out and ruffled the boy's dirt-ridden hair affectionately. The boy narrowed his eyes, and the man clearly read his mistrust. "I arrived here after hearing about a corpse-eating demon..." the man said, echoing the words his sensei had once said to a very good friend of his. "Would that be you?" Sensing danger, the boy leaped back, striking the man's hand away, and drawing his sword, which was clearly worn and bloodied from constant battle. The boy casually licked away the crumbs still on his mouth, eyeing the man keenly; much as the man had accused him of being, a demon. And yet, curiously, the man only offered a smile in return. "A rather cute demon at that. Did you steal that from a corpse as well? A lonely boy, stealing from the dead to protect himself, is it? You impress me." the man continued, reaching down for his own sword, clearly a Zanpakutō. The boy's eyes narrowed menacingly and he slowly took up a fighting stance, aiming the tip of his blade at the older man's throat. If he moved, he would strike. And yet, the man made no gesture to harm him. Instead, rather surprisingly, the man removed the entire Zanpakutō, sheathe and all, from his obi, cradling it in both of his hands as one would an infant. The boy continued to watching, curiosity keeping him from attacking as he otherwise would have. "However," the man continued. "You will no longer need that sword. A sword that is bore only in self-defense, and imbued with fear, should be cast aside." In a quick gesture, the man tossed his sword high in the air, giving the boy only a split-second to react. Catching the sword with his free hand, the boy looked at the man, a glint of bewilderment in his eyes as he wondered what the Shinigami could possibly be trying to accomplish by handing over his own weapon to someone bearing a weapon at him. "There, I have given you my sword. If you wish to learn how to properly use it, come with me." the Shinigami man finished. Looking down at the sword and then the man, the boy cautiously considered the man's words. He hungered to learn how to use the weapon. To learn to use it to stop carnage the likes of which had left him an orphan. To use it to stop the wars like the one that prevented him from protecting his now dead siblings. Weariness and sorrow finally overtaking him, the boy, with tears swelling in his eyes, stepped forward towards the Shinigami. "I... I am very tired, mister." he managed weakly. Smiling, the Shinigami reached down, retrieving his sword from the boy and strapping it back to his obi. And then, with his next movement, he knelt down and motioned for the boy to climb on his back. After a moment's hesitation, the boy did so, reaching for the man and climbing onto his back in a piggyback fashion. And with that, the man, boy in toe, headed off into the sunset; the boy watching the man with a look of bewilderment the entire way... Setting off Two months earlier... All was silent in the meeting room of the remaining captains of the Gotei 13. Captain-Commander Yachiru Unohana, who had taken over for the loss of Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, after the War of the Worlds, stood at the head of the group. Over time, the loss of their Captain-Commander, as well as the thousands of deaths that took place during the war had begun to wear on her. The once fierce Kenpachi was wrinkling with stress and worry. "What did you say the final death toll was?" Unohana repeated, directing her question at Captain Kagerōza Inaba of the 12th Division. "Well over a million Shinigami, Arrancar, Quincy, and civilians in totality. The exact number has yet to be concluded. There are still battlefields we haven't been able to check." Kagerōza replied, adjusting his spectacles. "That includes the loss of captains Hitsugaya, Zaraki, and Aikawa." "Then there's the problem with the orphans in the Rukongai." interjected. "The war has left them roaming the battlefields aimlessly." "Actually," Unohana spoke up again, glancing around the room as she did. "Raian, did you not have a suggestion for a course of action regarding that?" Raian, who had until now, remained silent, lost deep in his own thoughts, stepped forward. He himself had taken Hitsugaya's place after the war, resuming command of his 10th Division, while also juggling the demands of his position in the Royal Guard. "Yes." Raian said plainly. "I wish to ask permission from you, Captain-Commander, to be allowed to come and go as I please and leave the actual technicalities of my division to my ever-capable lieutenant. In place of this, I shall round up what orphans I can and teach them to become Shinigami themselves." "A captain who roams the countryside and doesn't run his division?" snapped. "That is a ridiculous proposal." "I cannot help but feel responsible for their situation." Raian continued, ignoring her comment. "I lead our war effort, and though we may have killed Akujin and his cohorts, we also ravaged Soul Society. I simply wish to make amends for this by helping those I hurt most; the children unable to protect themselves." "Regardless," Suì-Fēng persisted. "Not counting you, we are already short two captains. You really think now is the time to pursue pet projects? You are not that man. It is time to think practically, not idealistically." "In return for my absence, I will assist you in locating the two you wish to make captain." Raian interjected, again brushing Suì-Fēng off. "Assuming they are not from among the current divisions." "They aren't." Unohana finally replied. "Very well, I grant you this liberty in exchange for your services in finding those two." "Captain-Commander?!" Suì-Fēng protested. "Know your place, Suì-Fēng!" roared. "It her decision, not yours." Raian bowed to Unohana, "I will leave immediately following this meeting." Setting off — A Gallant Tale Begins "So, you got permission to set off after all?" the voice belonged to Seireitou, who had perched himself above the Tenth Division's barracks, staring down at his longtime comrade and rival. "I did." Raian replied, hanging his captain's haori on a nearby rack. "The school is already built. The only thing I have left to do is round up the orphans and find the remaining captains. That shouldn't take long." "Following in the steps of Shōyō-sensei..." Seireitou reminisced. "I've gotta be honest; never pegged you as one to start a school." "You did, didn't you?" Raian smirked, tossing his rival's remark right back at him. "Like I said — I never figured you to be the type." Seireitou jabbed back, also smirking. "You and Minato better be ready." Raian remarked further. "My students will give him a run for his money." "Taking our rivalry to the next generation, eh?" Seireitou chuckled. "We're going to hell for this someday." "Perhaps." Raian chuckled in response, strapping his Zanpakutō back to his obi. "Well, its time. Time to set out." "Good luck out there." Seireitou replied to this, leaping down from his perch. "The battlefields are still laden with corpses... too many to count. And... I feel something on the horizon." Raian paused at his friend's last remark, "So do I, Sei. So do I..." What is happening 'on the horizon'? Little does Soul Society know — it's past victories will be the reason for its future defeats! A menacing shadow lingers in the distance...